Fear the Living
by AirinBlikk
Summary: New Walking Dead fanfic. This is my first entry, so please feel free to comment with any suggestions or criticisms! A girl, recently escaped from an assault at Woodbury, stumbles upon the prison, and finds a lot more than she bargained for.
1. Chapter 1

Airin Blikk - Fear the Living

Chapter One

It was Christmastime in Green Mountain Falls, and the habitually dark sidewalks of Main Street were cast in a warm glow of lights. My heart soared with love for this tiny town, and all 762 of its strange residents.

The snow was falling softly in giant flakes as I walked casually down the street, peering in the shop windows at the holiday displays. A miniature Santa with a stethoscope waved happily at me from the front window of the local pharmacy.

It must be really late, I'd thought, the streets were ghostly silent. The only sound was that of my boots crunching in the new fallen snow. I didn't really mind. In a town where everyone knew everyone else's business, it was nice to separate yourself for a little while.

I was admiring a brightly lit nativity display when the lights dimmed and went out. Suddenly lost in the dark and disoriented, the ground seemed to fall from under me. With a jerk I swung back to reality.

I had roped myself into a tree the night before to try to get a little rest and was now hanging like a pig on a spit, limbs dangling. The realization of my situation hit me like a head on collision as I lethargically lifted one hand to rub my eyes.

I heard her before I could her, that same throaty, labored breathing I'd become accustomed to after this past year of terror.

You see, basically, the world had gone to shit. Due to a virus, or genetic mutation of some sort, the planet and the vast majority of the population had been reduced to a horror like something out of a Stephen King novel. The recently dead wandered, reanimated, and hungry for the flesh of the living. The so-called "Zombie Apocalypse" that we'd all jokingly planned for, was upon us.

My entire body was exhausted. I was bruised, torn, and broken in more ways than I cared to chronicle. I'd been alone in these woods for a week since my escape and had run out of water the evening before.

The walker stumbled over and stood below me. She stretched her pale haggard hands up towards my feet and sneered desperately. She had no hope of reaching me; luckily, as I was a few feet out of her reach. I stared down at her pale features in a kind of daze. Her skin was as grey as concrete, paler than death itself. Even after ending so many of those creatures, I still felt a pang of guilt for what I was about to do and sadness for the loss of the people they'd once been.  
I grasped the handle of my knife lazily and pulled it from its sheath. Every small exertion was painful and difficult. With all my cumulative strength, I flung the knife down into her skull and her lifeless form slumped to the ground.

If I hadn't mustered all of my remaining power, then half-jumped, half-fallen out of that tree. I'm afraid my fate would have been completely different. I moaned inwardly as I rolled away from my victim. It was just before dawn, mist shrouded the forest in a dense curtain, and every leaf glistened in the pale pre-dawn light. It was so beautiful in its danger, that I just lay there a moment, staring up at the fading stars. I pulled myself up and swallowed hard. My strength had all but left me, and I worried that if I didn't find a house or town soon, I wouldn't survive.

I forced my shaking body to stand and leant over the woman. I looked at her horrifying features, and imagined what she'd once looked like. She wore a worn pencil skirt and had long black hair. I bet she was pretty once...I'd thought as I brushed a strand of hair off of her cold forehead. With my moment of tenderness over, I pulled my blade out of her skull and cleaned it on her blazer before reseating it on my belt.

I scanned my surroundings to determine which direction I should go, but with the heavy fog, I wasn't even sure from which I'd come. I fell back against the tree in defeat. I began to dread that this would be my end, and without a gun to add finality to the event, I'd become a common terror to the rest of the living.

A gunshot. I sprang to my feet with renewed terror. Could he still be looking for me after a week? My body was paralyzed with fear. No. He would assume me dead; I rationalized, and wouldn't risk gunfire in an open area. Without thinking I took off towards the sound. It wasn t more than a minute when I heard two more shots. Close.

Through a thicket of trees and bushes, a prison was visible. A prison? I couldn't decide if I'd rather die in this forest, or risk more abuse at the hands of dangerous criminals.

I could see a masculine figure walking the perimeter of the grounds. Before I could really think, however, my decision was made for me. I heard the snarls and quiet thuds of once lifeless feet in the misty forest behind, and I bolted out into the clearing. I waved my arms and shouted at the figure.

I'm almost sure I saw him turn to look at me as my vision started to blur and I felt my knees buckle. I stumbled towards the wire fence as a walker lurched at me. Rolling over onto my back, I struggled to hold him at arms length, his jaw snapping wildly, nostrils flared. I knew it was over. My arms were burning with the effort and my world faded to black. I felt nothing, just the relief of the weight towering over me, and a weightlessness that crept into my bones as darkness consumed me. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

A year before all of this had happened; I'd been living a simple life in the small town of Green Mountain Falls, Colorado. My daily responsibilities had consisted of remembering to feed my cat, Ringo, and stopping by the grocery store to pick up something for my grandpa and I, for dinner.

My parents had passed way when I was 16, in a head on car collision with a drunk driver. Both, I was told, had died on impact. In today's harsh reality, it was hard not to be thankful for their quick passing. I'd lived with my grandpa from that day until all of this madness had occurred. He was a gentle man, with the vocabulary of a trucker, and a full head of snow white hair. He'd taught me how to play guitar, drink whiskey, and fillet a fish. I couldn't have asked for a better father figure at suck a tormented time in my life. I was only 21 years old, and that life seemed foreign to me now. A distant memory or faded recollection of a dream I'd just woken from.

After the first reports of the infection reached Green Mountain Falls, he and I had set off for Atlanta in search of his brother. We'd found the city in near ruin and chaos, the infected nearly outnumbered the healthy. When we reached his house, the door was open wide, and we found him in the kitchen swearing and wincing as he prodded at a bite on his arm. I human bite. The knot I'd felt in the pit of my stomach then, had nearly caused me to eject what little was in my growling stomach. There was no false hope in that Kitchen. We all stood in silence, not knowing what to do, or how to react.

Before we could say anything, a man came crashing through the door, informing us that we needed to get out of the city, that he and his family were evacuating to a small town called Woodbury. It hadn't taken long for my grandpa to decide that I was going with the man, and he promised to join me once his brother had "healed". He hugged me tightly, and whispered in my ear,

"I can't loose you, doll." And with a kiss on the forehead he ushered me out the door.

Woodbury was a small mining town full of colonial-style buildings and picturesque beauty. All-in-all, there was about 80 residents, which made plenty of hands to barricade and protect the small town.

Days went by. Weeks. Months. Eventually, hope of ever seeing my beloved grandfather alive again was completely lost.

The town developed quickly, everyone doing their part. The man, Phillip, who had brought me there, became a leader in the small hamlet. People grew to call him "the governor". It was a pretty mighty name for a leader of such a small group, but the city seemed safe, and who was I to judge?

I had been a year since the outbreak and I was wondering the streets of Woodbury late one night. I hadn't been able to sleep; I was never able to sleep. I'd been an insomniac long before the planet had become a living nightmare. I sauntered down the quiet avenue, stooping to pick up a cigarette butt and toss it in the bin. Across the street there's light burning in a main level window. My curiosity got the best of me as I'd realized that it was Phillip's house.

He was pacing back and forth in his living room, sweating profusely. I'd glanced at the antique clock hanging on the wall. 2:30. my stomach jumped into my throat when I saw her. A little girl was sitting there, bound to a dining chair in a worn out pink dress. There was a burlap bag over her face and I stepped into the garden for a better look.

He'd knelt down and rested a hand on the girls shoulder. The blood in my veins turned to ice when I noticed her pale, hand contort strangely at the sudden contact. His eyes were red, full of pain and anguish as he looked down at the tiny figure. He came around to kneel in front of her, and with one fluid motion, lifted the cover from her head.

I'd failed to stifle a gasp as I staggered and fell backwards, out of the carefully plotted flower bed. When I'd glanced back up his gaze seared into me; all rage and pain. He flew from the room and seconds later I heard the back door crash. I scrambled to get on my feet but before I could even get mobile, I felt his arm tighten around my throat. I'd clawed desperately at his arm as he dragged me backwards and into the house, the lack of air making my head start to spin. Once inside, he'd pushed me to the floor,

"What the fuck are you doing?!" His voice faltered, "Sneaking around my house at this hour!" I'd only gasped for air in response, not feeling the need to explain myself.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" he fumed. His anger had only fuelled my anger, and I stood.

"Me?! Who do you think _you_ are, governor?" I'd sneered. "You are putting this whole town in danger by bringing that _THING_ in here!"

"That _THING_ is my daughter!" He trembled as he spoke, but I could see the pain in his eyes. My heart had ached for him in that moment.

"Phillip…" I trailed off. "You know that creature is no more your daughter than the ones you put down outside the walls everyday." He stilled for a moment, and I relaxed, taking a step toward him.

"You can't keep her here."

It had happened so fast that it didn't register that he'd hit me. I felt the sting against my skull and the world fell to darkness around me.

When I'd come to, I found myself tied to a massive pipe of some kind. It was dark in the room but I could tell it was daytime from the light creeping in around the door frame. I struggled against my bonds frantically but all I'd managed to accomplish was to make my wrists raw. It was staggeringly hot. I'd felt like a lobster in a pot, as the water was brought to a boil. A million thoughts raced through my head in that moment. _Where was I? Was I still in the city? _Listening intently, I'd decided that I wasn't. The town would have be alive with activity in the middle of the say, and the only sound I could hear was the tweeting of a far off bird. My heart sank a little. _Why was I there? Penitence? _I swallowed. _Walker bait? _With the fresh terror that captured my thoughts, I'd pulled feverishly at the rope begging inwardly for it to give.

My plight was interrupted by the sound of footsteps and…whistling? I hadn't been deceived by my ears. Sure enough, a second later, the door swung open in front of me.

"Well hey there Girly." A broad, stocky man with short grey facial hair and primitive jutting chin sauntered nonchalantly toward me. As he passed through the light I noticed he was carrying a knife. As he came closer to me I realized he wasn't carrying it, it hung where his had should have been. He'd caught me staring,

"You like that?" he chuckled. "Some sheriff and bastard nigger did this to me in Atlanta. Ain't half bad."

I crouched, silent.

"You's a quiet one, huh?" he purred. "One sneaky little bitch, as the governor put it."

"What bother bringing me here?" I finally found my voice.

"Whooo-eee, I done you a favor woman." He whooped, a dark glint in his eye.

"Somehow I doubt that." I presented my bonds to him.

"Nah, really, I did. Boss man wanted yer hide slung over that big ol sofa, of his."

"So you tied me up in a rotting old shed to me eventually torn apart by walkers? Gee…I'm not sure how to express my appreciation. Your kindness is overwhelming." I rolled my eyes.

He lashed out and wrapped his only hand tightly around my neck, slamming my head against the pipe.

"Now listen here you little whore," he snarled, "I coulda chopped you into bits by now." He brandished his knife arm with a smile.

"In fact," he trailed the blade along my jaw, across the collarbone and down between my breasts. I just groaned. My head spun from the blow.

"Mmm," he purred, pressing up against me. My lungs were on fire, as I twisted and turned trying to free myself. "Shh now girly…" he soothed as he loosened his grip on my neck.

"Now yer gonna do exactly as I say, ya hear me?"

I spat at him between heaving breaths. He flinched.

"That weren't very nice." No sooner had he said it than I felt the pressure of his blade against my side. "Step out of them jeans."

"Never." I hissed.

My body burned as the tip of his knife pierced my skin. I cried out and swung at him with my leg. He'd lost his balance and stumbled back, releasing my neck and pulling the blade away with him. I'd launched myself over the pipe and crouched on the other side, pulling at the rope on my wrists. He yelled in rage. Rather than climb over the pipe, he'd just reached over and pulled my back by my hair. My face slammed into the dirt. I tried to lift myself back up but he sat down and straddled my back. I felt the hot blade, still wet, press against my throat.

"Now," he instructed, "yer gonna stay real still, or else I'll slit yer throat and finish on your corpse."

Instinctively, I tried to roll my body be her pulled my head up with the knife, pushing it against my chin.

"I ain't even gonna think twice." He threatened, scooting back and grinding against me. I whimpered involuntarily.

The blade became so tight on my throat that I struggled to swallow, as he pulled down my jeans and undid his belt. Silent tears fell down my cheeks as he forced himself inside of me over and over again, grunting excitedly.

It was the worst pain I'd ever felt, and it took everything I had not to cry out. To do so would only give that bastard satisfaction. When he finished, he exhaled slowly and leant down to kiss my cheek.

"Mmm, yer prime girly." He moaned as he pulled away his knife arm and dismounted me. I scrambled away as fast as my violated limbs could, and curled up against the pope, face hidden in my knees. I heard him zip his pants, turn and walk out of the shed whistling.

I spent three days in that personal hell, bound to the same massive pipe. The nights were cold and it was hard to sleep when I was shivering so violently.

He came back every few hours like clockwork. At first, I'd try to fight back, to keep him off, but it always ended in further injury. Once or twice, he'd brought me water in an old canteen, but never any food. My body ached and my strength faltered more and more with each passing day.

Then, on the third night, he'd flung the door open and staggered in, fly open, bottle in hand.

"Daddy's home!" he announced, slurring. He dropped the bottle and worked at his belt, but in his drunken stupor has forgotten to close the door behind him. Before he could even pry his belt apart, a walker stumbled through the door after him. He spun around when he heard the snarl, and fell back ontop of me in his surprise. As he struggled to get up, he caught his blade on my rope and unconsciously sliced half way through it.

When he'd finally righted himself, he lunged at the walker. I pulled desperately at my leash, and after a couple of seconds it gave and I fell backwards.

I heard the sound of metal on bone and spun around to see the man shoving his blade up through the walker's chin. He cackled.

In an instant I'd picked up the bottle in my still tied hands and brought it down hard on the back of his head. He slumped to the ground, motionless. I grabbed a knife from his belt, and maneuvered it between my wrists. My shoulders ached as my hands fell apart. I slid the knife into my belt, grabbed the canteen that he'd left lying on the ground earlier and some rope hanging near the door.

I looked around for anything else that may have been useful. There didn't appear to be anything else, so I bolted out the door and into the woods.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

To my surprise, in my darkness, I heard voices.

"What happened?" A man, speaking low with an authoritative twang.

"She just come runnin out of the trees. Hollerin and making a fuss," Another man, with a deeper, husky tone. "She's lucky I'm a good shot, walker nearly bit her face off."

I was alive. Relief washed over me as I became aware of the ground below me, the air in my lungs.

"Did she say anything to you?" the first man, frustrated.

"Naw. She was out before I even reached her. Don't look like she's eaten in a while, didn't weigh nothin." The second man trailed off, "She looks pretty rough."

"Yeah…" The first man again. I opened my eyes. I was in a cell, lying on the bottom bunk and the two men stood just outside of the entrance.

One man, lean, with short wavy hair, I assumed to be the first voice I'd heard. He didn't look much like a convict. He wore a plaid button up shirt and beige slacks. I just hung, holstered, against his hip.

The second man was larger, with shoulders as wide as a semi. He had sharp features, and a mess of dark brown hair. His clothes hung loosely over his large frame. A sleeveless army green shirt and cargo pants made him look much rougher than the other. He had a crossbow slung over his shoulder.

I moved to sit up, but the motion was prevented by a set of handcuffs that chained my left hand to the bed post. I pulled my knees up and leant forward, the cuffs clanging.

The men, startled, turned at the sound. The smaller man stepped into the cell and reached a hand out to me.

"Hey," he soothed, "I'm Rick, this here is Daryl." He gestured toward the other man, and I flinched involuntarily at his sudden movement. I just nodded at his introduction, refusing his hand. He sighed, letting it fall down to his leg.

"What's your name?" he inquired, his blue eyes sparkling with curiosity. I hesitated but didn't respond, and curled up tighter in the corner of the bunk.

He just sighed and reached down to release the handcuffs. Then he walked out of the cell and I could hear him rummaging through a plastic bag.

The other man, Daryl, studied me from where he still stood. I rubbed my bruised wrists, turning my hands over and caressed my torn knuckles. My fingernails were embedded with dirt, and I had a few cuts and scrapes from trying to wield the knife I'd taken.

Rick reappeared in the cell and placed a water bottle and a can of beans with a spoon on the end of my bunk. He nodded at me and went back out, stopping to mumble to Daryl,

"Keep an eye on her."

I didn't need an invitation to start eating. I lunged for the water and struggled with the cap. It finally fell free and I put the bottle to my lips, trembling.

The liquid flowed gloriously onto my tongue and I gulped until half the bottle was emptied. I reached for the beans and brought a spoonful to my mouth. I moaned as I ate it, not having tasted anything in a week.

Daryl watched me intently as I devoured the beans and sucked the rest of the water from the bottle.

"Where'd you come from?" he hesitated, looking at my neck, "You with a group?" I just ignored him. I crept out of the bunk and retrieved the bottle cap from the floor. Screwing the cap on the bottle, I just looked around. There wasn't much in the cell. Just a chair, and toilet, and some bedding.

Rick reappeared with a younger girl, probably not much older than myself. Daryl stalked off as I appraised my new acquaintance. She has medium length brown hair and big blue eyes.

"Hey," she sat down on the chair opposite me, "I'm Maggie." She had a thick southern accent, and flashed me a wide white smile. I don't know why, but I wanted to trust this girl. There was something in her easy manner and the way she carried herself that made me feel comfortable.

"Kate." I croaked, my voice not sounding like my own. I sat back down on the bed.

"Pleasure to meet ya." She shifted in her seat, leaning toward me. "How long have you been out in the forrest? It's pretty rough country around here."

"About a week…" I fiddled with the hem of my shirt.

"And before that? Were you with anyone?" I just shook my head, fighting back tears.

"Okay." She cooed, placing a hand on my knee, "Why don't you come with me? I'll take ya to the showers and you can clean up. I'm sure I've got something that'll git ya."

I sniffed and nodded, standing up to follow her. She led me out of the cell and up the stairs to what appeared to be her 'room'. I looked around me at cell block C. The words were painted massively against the block wall. There were twelve cells. Some contained nothing, a few looked fully outfitted with bedding and personal belongings.

Maggie handed me a pair of jeans, a black tank top, and as she gave me a sympathetic smile, she slipped a pair of clean underwear between the other garments. She grabbed a toothbrush and toothpaste as well as a bar of soap.

"Come on," She smiled, placing a hand on my back and leading me down the stairs and out of the block.

We walked down a long dark hallway, turned left twice and ended up in a room of open showered. Small white sinks and missing or cracked mirrors lined one wall of the tall room, while naked showerheads littered the tiled wall opposite. About fifteen or twenty feet up were large windows that leant the room some daylight.

Maggie walked over to a sink and placed the soap, toothbrush and paste on the edge of it.

"I can just wait outside while you clean up and take you back?" She leaned casually against the wall.

"That's okay…I can find my way back. Thanks." I knew my smile wasn't very convincing but tried anyways.

"Alright," She smiled, walking past me and out the door. I just stood for a second, not really wanting to get undressed. I walked over to the sink and stared at the haggard face in the cracked mirror.

My white blonde hair was tangled and dirty, wrapped in a bun on the top of my head. My face was a mess of dirt and blood with a dark purple ring around one bloodshot green eye.

I turned on the cold water tap and the water spilled slowly into the sink. I washed my hands slowly lathering the soap and rubbing my tired knuckles. Cleanliness felt so strangely satisfying and I was overcome with the need to wash away everything. I wanted to rid my body of the filth and residue of the past ten days.

I undressed in front of the mirror, struggling to remove each piece of crusted clothing. I stared at my figure. My entire appearance was savage. I took inventory of my injuries. A deep cut in my left side, scabbed and dry from when my captor had stuck me, an overwhelming clump of bruises around my ribs on the right side, dark bruises around my neck, all over my arms and legs, as well as a gash on my arm from falling out of that tree. I haven't even noticed it before. I touched my ribs and winced.

With a heavy sigh, I walked over, turned the eater on, and stepped into the stream. It was hot, and stung my skin, but I scrubbed purposefully; the blood, dirt, and sweat that coated my skin all falling away. I washed my hair, probing my tender scalp with my fingertips. Once I had half-scrubbed, half-burned my way to cleanliness, I just stood in the stream of hot water and shivered. I slumped to the floor and sat with my knees pulled into my chest.

I started sobbing uncontrollably. I cried for myself, and the loss of my physical innocence. I cried for the world, broken and horrid in its new found reality. I cried for the lost lives of everyone I ever loved. But mostly, I cried because of the realization that the living were to be as feared, if not more, than the walking dead. I was alone.

With a shudder I heard the door wheeze open and sucked in a sob.

"Uh, pardon…" Daryl, startled. "I was just- uh, sorry." He was gone as quickly as he'd appeared.

As I took a few shuddering deep breaths, I combed my fingers through my hair, pleading inwardly for it to cooperate. Then I was on my feet again, rinsing off. I brushed my teeth and dressed, wishing for a sleeved shirt to hide my bruises, and the gash on my arms. I wrung my hair ink the sink and let it fall over my shoulders.

I wanted to get back to that cell and so forever. So, I gathered my things and thrust the bundle under my arm, walking from the room.

As I swung the door open I was surprised to see Daryl standing there still, and dropped my things and knelt to hurriedly retrieve them. When I looked up, I caught him grimacing at the newly exposed skin of my arms.

"Maggie wanted me to wait for ya, and show ya back. Don't nobody want ya getting mauled by walkers already."

I nodded, gesturing for him to lead the way. He turned abruptly and stalked off in the direction of the black. When we reached it, the block was humming with activity. I felt out of place as I glanced around at the motley crew that had gathered.

There was Rick, Daryl and Maggie as well as a young boy, another girl, a woman washing clothes, two men in jumpsuits, one tall and black, the other thin with red hair, an older man with one leg severed beneath the knee, and a young Asian man I'd noticed earlier.

As the boy turned around, I watched him pass a bundle to Rick. A baby. I stared, stunned at the small body squirming contentedly in the man's arms. The sight of new life in a dying world was overwhelming.

Maggie appeared in front of me, relieving me of my things. She presented the other girl and introduced here.

"This is my baby sister, Beth." She smiled, "Beth? This is Kate."

"Nice to meet you." She pressed her hand into mine, leading me into the group of people. She introduced the boy as Carl, Rick's son. The woman washing clothes was named Carol. The two men in jumpsuits were introduced as Axel and Oscar, and the young Asian man as Glenn. She brought me over to the older man.

"This is my bad, Hershel." She beamed, "He's our resident veterinarian turned doctor."

The old man smiled, then tilted his head and gestured towards my arm.

"We really ought to clean that up and stitch it."

I nodded and he gestured into a cell. Once we were in the cell, he turned to me.

"Is there anything else you need stitched or checked out?" He feigned concern, but I could see suspicion on his features. Still, I was in no place to refuse the help. I could feel eyes on my as I exposed the wound on my side. Beth sucked in a breath and took an involuntary step back.

"We can stitch that up too." He reached out and pressed lightly on my colored ribs. "How's that?"

I gasped a little as he pressed, clenching my jaw. He didn't wait for my response and just muttered,

"Definitely bruised, likely cracked." He smiled, this time it seemed genuine. "You'll have to rest up for a few days at least."

I nodded and he turned to busy himself getting the suture ready.

Compared to the pain of receiving the wounds, having them tended and sewn was virtually painless. As Hershel worked quietly, I watched the group.

The woman, Carol, was washing my shirt with Maggie's help and they talked in hushed voices. I watched carefully as Carol wetted my underwear and hazarded a glance in my direction. It wouldn't be hard for her to piece my horrid little story together. I was surprised at my lack of embarrassment or fear as she turned her pitying gaze on me.

The two inmates were playing cards, the red haired man, Axel, casting long glances at me when he thought I wasn't looking.

Beth and Glenn were hanging the laundry over the second level stair rails, and Carl was talking at rick as he fed the baby. I didn't see Daryl among them.

"Done." Hershel chirped as he clipped the last string and set his tools down. "Now there's extra bedding up in Carol's cell. You can settle into the cell between Axel and Oscar, and Glenn and Maggie."

"Thank you." I said earnestly. Even though I was hesitant to trust these people, I was more thankful to be clean and have a bed to sleep in. Rick handed the baby back to Carl and made his way over to where Hershel and I sat.

"Feeling better?" He was cautious.

"A little, I'm thankful to you and your people here. I'll be out of the way as soon as I can." His eyes darkened as I spoke.

"Don't worry about it for now," it was almost an order. "Were you with a group?"

I shook my head.

"Listen," he huffed, "You don't just beat yourself up like that," gesturing to my eye. "I need to know that we're not threatened."

"It was just one man," I started, not wanting to continue, "He won't be a problem to you now." It was a lie, but I wasn't going to give up more than I had to.

"That's fine."

The light outside was failing and Oscar hurriedly lit some lanterns as Beth set out some beans for dinner.

"Come have something to eat, and then I'll get Maggie to help you make up a bunk." And he strode from the cell.

I ate hurriedly, not saying much of anything to anyone, and Maggie got up to help me make a bed. She pulled out a pillow, and a blanket from a chest in Carol's cell. She handed them to me, and showed me to my cell. She offered me a flashlight but I declined, wanting to crawl into bed and quiet the thoughts pouring through my head.

I lay huddled up in the bunk listening to everyone clearing up and talking quietly. My mind raced, thinking of the man who'd kept me locked in that shed, wondering if he'd continue to look for me. I thought of my grandpa for the first time since my escape, and my heart ached. I lay there for hours just following my train of thought, until long after the rest of the group had retired.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

I slept soundly and was woken late the next day when I heard music. At first I thought it was a lucid dream, but as I opened my eyes, I heard the sound of guitar strings, strummed slowly. Simple chords. I swung my feet off the bed and rubbed my legs. Next to being tied into a tree, the bunk had been a king sized bed at the Sheraton.

I crept out of my cell, and looked around. The block looked empty, but as I peered into the adjoining cell I saw Glenn sitting in a chair, strumming softly on an old acoustic. I leant against the door and listened quietly. Glenn, noticing my presence, stopped abruptly.

"Hey," He smiled shyly. "Did I wake you?" He seemed genuinely concerned.

"It's really okay." I sat down on the bunk across from him. "Please, keep playing."

"Heh." He smirked humbly. "I'm really not great, but it's kind of an escape, you know?"

I nodded, smiling. He half held the instrument out to me.

"Do you play?" raising his eyebrows.

"Ah…not really. It's been so long." I looked at the instrument longingly.

"Here," He took it off his lap and held it out to me.

"No, really. Another time maybe." I half-promised.

"Sure." He's strumming the chords again, some simple melody I hardly remembered. I just enjoyed it for a few minutes.

"Where is everyone?" I stretched, wincing a little.

"Uh, Carl and the girls are in the kitchen, working out something for dinner. I heard maybe canned spaghetti." he smiled. "Daryl, Rick, Axel, and Oscar are out gathering supplies…and Hershel is still asleep I think."

"Oh." I felt surprised by my disappointment at my lack of contribution and Glenn sensed it.

"Hey," he put a hand on my knee. I tried not to flinch but he could sense my discomfort just as easily, and lets it fall. "Don't walk before you can run. We're not just going to cast you off for taking time to heal."

"Sure." I stared at my toes.

"Want to help me fold the laundry? It should be dry. We left it hanging all night." He gestured toward the clothing hanging across the second level railing.

I nodded, smiling and he set the guitar behind the bunks.

I underestimated how much laundry the small group of people could generate. It takes us at least 45 minutes to fold everything and distribute it into everyone's rooms.

As we were finishing up, we could hear a commotion in the block hallway. Glenn ran down to the door and looked down the hallway. He let out a sigh of relief as Axel and Oscar sauntered in making a fuss, presenting the nearly empty block with their haul. Rick followed with a heavy pack. He saw me holding my own clothes, and climbed the stairs.

"Thanks." He smiled, nodding at the laundry in my hand. "We brought you back a couple things." Rummaging through the pack he pulled out a toothbrush and a tube of Polysporin.

"That was real sweet of you." I accepted the items graciously.

"It's no problem." He reached out to place a hand on my shoulder, but thought better of it, and just ran it through his hair. It made me feel a bit guilty, but I did't have long to dwell on it. He seemed to have an epiphany, "Oh, I almost forgot," rummaging through the pack again. "Daryl thought these might be your size." He produced a couple pairs of pants, and handful of t-shirts, and blushing, a pack of underwear. "I noticed Maggie's stuff is a little bit big"

I motioned for him to wait a moment, as I place my new belongings on the step next to me. Without a second thought, I gave him a soft hug. He reached one arm around and squeezed me lightly. I just smiled and nodded as I cut the embrace short. He nodded in reply and carried the pack back down to the lower level, and into his cell.

I gathered my things and noticed Daryl coming up the stairs. I nodded at him and smiled, trying to convey my thanks. He noticed the clothes and, seeming embarrassed, he glanced away and brushed past me. I tried to just brush it off and head back to my cell to take inventory of my things.

I laid everything out on my bed. A blue toothbrush and tube of Polysporin; I set them aside. Five small t-shirts adorned with assorted classic rock bands. I smiled imagining the men shopping in the boys department; Led Zeppelin, AC/DC, Motorhead, Pink Floyd, and a package of two fruit of the loom v-necks. I opened the package and folded the shirts in a pile with the rest. There were two pairs of pants, which looked to be a good size. I folded them as well and set them aside. I opened the pack of underwear and folded five pairs of pastel colored boy shorts. Something about the small wardrobe made me smile as I turned to go down and join the others.

I squeaked, startled, as I almost ran into Daryl, standing in the cell doorway. A sense of being trapped came over me, as I noticed he was almost completely blocking my exit. There was a tremor in my voice as I spoke,

"How long have you been standing there?" I crossed my arms.

"Not long," he grunts, "Just wanted to give you this." holding out a worn green duffel bag to me. "I reckoned you'd need a place to keep your things off the ground." I took the bag from him.

"Thank you." I fiddled with the bag nervously, "Hey, Rick said-,"

"-Don't mention it." he cut me off and walked away.

Daryl intimidated me. Of all of the people in the group, he seemed to be the most unpredictable, and I made a mental note to be on my toes around him.

I heard cheers in the block as I walked out of my room. Maggie, Carol, and Beth walked in carrying a few of pots, with Carl and the baby trailing behind. The smell reached me and my knees buckled. Carl looked up at me with a laugh and motioned for me to come down.

Everyone gathered around a makeshift table. Carol and Beth served steaming plates of spaghetti and canned tomato sauce. I sat down next to Carl and he smiled up at me,

"It's a good day," he shoved a forkful of saucy noodles into his mouth, "try it."

I ate my food slowly, savoring the taste and my stomach growled with satisfaction. Afterwards, I helped Oscar clean up the plates as the rest of the group gathered around the light of a single oil lamp and talked excitedly. When everything was set, Oscar sat to join the others, and I wandered up the stairs with a lamp to lie down. As I was walking by Glenn and Maggie's cell, I noticed the guitar sitting behind the bunk.

I stepped into the cell, put the lamp on the floor sitting down on the bunk, and lifted the instrument onto my lap. I propped it up against me and caressed the neck of it, seemingly trying to encourage my fingers to remember the motions. Slowly, quietly, I pressed my fingertips against the strings and strummed a chord lightly. Without thinking about it, I moved from one chord to another, playing the first song that came to mind. It was the Beatles classic, While My Guitar Gently Weeps. The chords flowed effortlessly together, and I closed my eyes to enjoy the sound. Mouthing the words unconsciously I started to sing quietly,

"_I look at the world, and I notice its turning, while my guitar gently weeps._

_With every mistake, we must surely be learning, still my guitar gently weeps._

_I don't know how, you were diverted. You were perverted, too._

_I don't know how, you were inverted. No one alerted you._"

I was completely lost in the song, and as it drew to a close, I opened my eyes. My eyelashes and cheeks were wet with tears. I wiped them away, smiling.

"That was real nice." Daryl stood in the doorway. In the soft light of the lamp, his face didn't look its usual mask of tension and discontent. I couldn't hear the voices from the group below, and I realized that in my moment of self indulgence, I'd failed to be as quiet as I meant to be.

"Thanks." I stared down at the instrument.

Daryl, seeming to notice the silence, grunted a reply and was gone again.

"Kate?" Maggie's voice from downstairs.

I placed the guitar back in its home quietly, and crept out of the cell. Maggie met me at the top of the stairs.

"Maggie, I'm sorry. Glenn was playing it earlier and I just-"

"No." She cut me off. There were tears in her eyes.

"I didn't mean to-"

"Kate. It was beautiful." she flashed her wide smile. "Would you mind?" She gestured towards the group and as I looked down, I was overwhelmed by the look of thanks in everyone's smiles. Rick, rocking his baby in his arms, wiped a tear from his cheek, and Glenn beckoned me with a nod of his head. I didn't have the heart to turn them all down. Maggie retrieved the guitar from her cell and led me down to where the group sat.

I started nervously on my grandpa's old favorite, Stairway to Heaven, plucking the notes slowly and carefully. As I began singing, I looked up at the people illuminated in the soft light around me. Carol beamed, eyes sparkling, at the familiar melody. Glenn put an arm around Maggie, and the two swayed to the song. Axel tapped his feet along to the beat and Oscar drummed on his knees. Rick rocked his baby, eyes closed, and Carl watched the instrument closely as my fingers danced across the frets. Hershel put a hand on Beth's leg and she rested her head on his shoulder.

I looked up to the second level where Daryl leaned forward against the railing, a smile playing at his features.

It was in that moment, that I decided I was with these people, and I wanted nothing more than to stay.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

My sleep was fitful that night. Images of my captor's angular face haunted my mind, as I tossed and turned in the dark. I woke in a cold sweat and rolled over to face the cement wall.

I shuttered in my bunk, the only light was pale white rays in the hallway from the moon outside. I froze as I felt a hand on my back.

"Shh…" I turned over to see Axel smiling down at me. I heard you talking and rolling around in your sleep."

"I'm fine," my voice was hard. "You can go back to your bed now." I turned over again attempting to end the conversation, but he pressed on earnestly.

"Do you want some company?" I turned back over noticing my bare leg was uncovered and concealed it quickly. I felt a shiver a panic as he leaned toward me.

"I could keep you safe," He brushed a strand of hair off of my forehead, making me flinch away, "and you know…warm."

"Get out." I stilled, doing my best to sound authoritative without shouting.

"Kate…I didn't mean to- it's just been so long." He shrugged looking anywhere but my face.

"I'd be real gentle." He pleaded, running a hand up my leg. I shoved him then, and the chair fell over.

He grabbed my leg as he fell, dragging me to the floor. I kicked him as hard as I could in the stomach and scrambled to my feet. I didn't wait for him to retaliate, and shoved him into the hallway. He moved to step back into the cell-

"Hey!" Daryl came stomping down the concourse. "The fuck is going on here?" His gaze shifted from Axel to me, pressed up against the bunks, prepared for the next blow. His eyes flitted down to my bare legs and looked away quickly.

"Axel, you fucking pervert." he shoved the other man towards his cell, "go to bed before I reckon I ought to put yer lights out for ya." Turning to me, "You alright?" keeping eye contact.

"I'm fine." I met his eyes, "Thanks." For the first time since I'd met Daryl, he doesn't shy away from the appreciation.

"Yer welcome." He pressed his lips together. He just stood there a few moments, like he was waiting for something. "You okay alone or-?" his voice trailed.

"Oh," I looked around my cell. "Sure, yeah, I'm good." I faked a smile and he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He took two steps into the cell toward me, and I could barely see any light past his massive frame. To my surprise, no fear gripped me, although the hair on the back of my neck stood straight on end. He reached out and grabbed the chair in front of me. As he set it between the bunk and the doorway I let out a deep breath.

"Hmh." He smirked and sat down.

"What are you doing?" I grabbed the blanket off the bunk and wrapped it around myself.

"Just get some sleep, huh?" he avoided my eyes then, settling into his chair. Sitting down on the edge of the bunk, I apologized.

"It's fine, really. I'm fine." My voice didn't sound nearly as convincing as I'd hope.

"Can't sleep anyways." We sat in silence a moment. I felt bad, thinking that he felt obligated to stay but I couldn't deny the comfort it afforded me.

My eyes burned, begging me to get some more sleep. So, instead of resisting further, I gave his forearm a squeeze of thanks and curled up in my bunk. It didn't take long for my eyes to close and the world to fade away, as I fell into a deep and dreamless

Sleep.

When I stirred in the morning it was still dark in the block. I looked at Daryl slumped in the chair. His head was sunk on his chest and it rose and fell slowly. I crept out of my bunk quietly and slid on a pair of new pants. They fit perfectly. Smiling, I slipped on the Led Zeppelin t-shirt and combed my fingers through my unruly hair. I lifted the blanket off of my bunk and tiptoes slowly over to the sleeping man.

His face was streaked with dirt and sweat but his features were peaceful. I draped the blanket over him and made my way down to where Maggie and Hershel already sat with a lamp lighting their faces.

"Morning." Maggie smiled sleepily. "Coffee?" She gestured toward a box of instant coffee and a steaming pot of water.

"Oh god yes." I dipped a chipped mug into the pot and emptied the packet of brown crystals. No sugar or milk, but I could hardly be bothered to notice as I brought the mug to my lips, reverently.

"Rick and Daryl are going out today to get some supplies," Hershel suggested. "I can't think of a safer duo for you to tag along with for your first run." There was a mischievous sparkle in his eye, and Maggie chuckled quietly.

I sipped my coffee in silence. Hershel's face grew more serious.

"Heard some ruckus last night, everything alright?" he studied me over his cup. I sighed.

"Yeah, I think so. Axel was in my room last night. I might've banged him up a bit." I stared into the flame.

"He does that." Maggie mused. "the poor guy is so lonely."

"Yeah." I faked a chuckle.

"Did he touch you?" Rick appeared behind us. I shook my head a little too insistently.

"I'll talk to him." His eyes darkened. He was tense, and I'm sure, figured that I wasn't being truthful. I watched him as he grabbed a cup of coffee for himself and sat down next to me. Maggie eyed him intently. He turned to me,

"Daryl and I are running out to get some supplies again today, we're running low on formula and ammo and spotted a strip mall coming out of town the other day." Taking another sip, "We could sure use an extra pair of hands if you're feeling up to it."

I considered it, testing my ribs a little with my fingertips. They were definitely still tender but I figured that they weren't bothering me too much when I was moving, so I nodded my acceptance.

"Great," he smiled. "That'll be real helpful."

We all sat in silence, sipping our cherished beverages as the first rays of dawn began filtering in through the towering windows. The world always looked new to me in the soft morning light, when the earth's surface was sprinkled with dew. I looked in at the baby, sleeping soundly in a blanketed box next to Carl's bunk. Rick followed my gaze and confessed quietly,

"Her name's Judith." He had a far away look in his eyes.

"She's beautiful." I half-whispered. It occurred to me then, as I attempted to take inventory of the prison population in my head that her mother must not have been among them. I couldn't date the baby any older than a month, two at the most. The sad reality hung in the air around us like a life sentence. We were all snapped out of our somber thought as Daryl stumbled out of his chair, bringing it clanging to the floor. He rubbed his eyes as he stepped out of my cell.

Maggie glanced at me raising her eyebrows, her mouth hanging slightly open. As I realized what she was assuming I shook my head, holding my hand up in protest.

"No." I scoffed. "He insisted on sitting guard so I could get some sleep." They all exchanged surprised expressions.

"Are ya'll sweet on each other, or something?" Still staring at me.

"Are you kidding?" I glanced up toward my cell. "He's barely said ten words to me since I found the prison…"

"He's a complex fellow," Hershel chimed in, "Can't even begin to imagine what's going through his head half the time."

Our gossip was cut short when Judith stirred, and began to cry. Rick brushed himself off and sauntered away to sooth the crying baby. Daryl stumbled stiffly down to the gathering and made his own cup quietly. Maggie turned to me,

"Hey Kate," saving me from staring blatantly at the man, "Why don't we go find something for breakfast?"

"Sure." I gulped back the rest of my beverage and followed her down to the kitchen.

The room was dark as we entered; the low thrum of a refrigerator was the only sound.

"The fridge still works?" I prompted.

"Every once in a while." Maggie sighed sullenly. "Can't depend on it, not that we've got anything to put in there besides walkers."

With a flashlight she scanned the pantry shelves, bringing the beam to rest on a banged up box of oatmeal.

"Hold this for me." I held the flashlight while she picked up the box and laid it on the floor rifling through the contents, taking out dry packages that hadn't been chewed by mice. My mind wandered,

"So…what happened to Judith's mother?" I pried. Maggie stiffened visibly, making me regret my inquiry immediately. She braced herself against the box.

"We got separated from the group when she went into labor…and she had to have a C-section." She stared into the box, longingly. "Carl had to put her down before she turned."

Everything was still and silent for a moment, and Maggie resomed the search for the damage-free packages.

"I'm so sorry." I mumbled, feeling awful for making her recount the tragic tale. I couldn't stand the silence.

"So, what is Daryl's story?" She laughs,

"I don't know really. They all showed up at out farm one day, so most of their histories are a mystery to me. I know Rick used to be a sheriff. Carol had a husband when she showed up too, but he was an abusive piece of shit." She disposed of the damaged and open packages, refilling the box with the good ones. "Daryl isn't exactly the chatty type. Although," She remembered, "Carol did tell me that they'd lost his brother in Atlanta and don't know what happened. She reckons they had a tumultuous childhood, they were close, but his brother was a real dangerous man. He took the disappearance real hard though." She picked up the box. "He seems pretty lost to me…don't you think?" walking down the corridor back to the block, I pondered the thought for a moment.

"Hell, I don't know." I huffed as we entered the block and met the hopeful faces waiting to be served.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

After breakfast had been cleaned up and cleared, Rick started preparing for the supply run. He held a knife and a revolver out to me.

"Can you shoot?"

"Not bad." I admitted, as I tucked the gun securely into the back of my jeans, "I prefer this." taking the knife out of his hand.

"That's good." He urged. "You don't shoot that gun off unless you have to."

I nodded, understanding that the shot would give away our position. He gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze and returned to gathering bags for the trip.

I climbed up into my cell and pulled my duffel bag out from under the bed. Emptying the contents onto my bunk, I slung it over my shoulder.

"You comin with us?" Daryl questioned, brows furrowed.

"Yeah. I want to contribute something." I tried to sound confident.

"Mm." he turned, "should be leaving shortly." Stomping down the stairs he was gone, again.

It was strange to me how he never lingered, aside from the night before. I tried to imagine what occupied his thoughts when he was always off alone. Only his brother came to mind, but I hoped for his sake there was more to his existence than that. Everyone else in the group had someone or something more to occupy their time and effort. Some things, I decided, were better left a mystery.

I repositioned the gun in the back of my jeans. The metal was smooth against the small of my back. I shivered, praying that I wouldn't have to use it. The dread of leaving the prison hung heavy on my heart. This place was the safest I'd felt since Woodbury, although even that town had its dangers. In this horrid age, I reasoned, everywhere did.

The two men were ready by the time I reached them. I grabbed a couple of bags and followed them out to the truck.

The old ford sat ready in the yard, effectively hiding Daryl's Triumph. It made no sense to me that he should present himself so pronouncedly to our unhappy hosts, but I didn't feel comfortable enough to contradict it. Hurtling my bags into the truck bed, I climbed into the passenger seat.

Daryl coaxed the motorcycle to life and it grumbled down to the entrance where Glenn and Beth waited to open the gates to the nightmarish absoluteness of the world we now inhabited. Rick turned the key and the engine roared, as he pulled out of the yard.

Hershel was right. Of all the people I'd encountered since the outbreak, I trusted Daryl and Rick to keep me out of harms way, when my own aim or strength faltered.

Glenn and Beth unlocked the gate, tore it open and our miniature convoy sped along the trail into the all-too-well known. I watched in the rear view mirror as the gate slammed shut behind us, and my stomach dropped as I felt myself cut off from the safety of the past 48 hours.

I thought about my life before the outbreak and yearned for the simplicity of my previous existence. I grieved for the memories of two dollar beers at McKeeney's on Thursday nights, and the fourth of July fireworks down by the old shipyard. The world had held so many possibilities and pleasures I'd taken for granted.

I must've looked far away from the task at hand, because Rick placed a hand on my knee, glancing from the road over to me,

"Kate," he commanded my attention, "I know how overwhelming it can feel, but I need your head in the game. The more focused we are, the easier this will be."

"Sorry." I shook my head trying to let loose the somber thoughts. "I know."

"Alright then." He smiled encouragingly.

"So tell me about the place we're hitting." I stared at the road stretching out in front of us.

"Strip mall just outside of Jacobsville. It's about a 20 minute drive from here. It's a pretty open strip, not a lot of cover for walkers; we should be able to see them long before they see us." He explained. "There are a couple of shops. A pawn shop, pharmacy, and a bakery. We'll probably skip the bakery, not much for us there."

I nodded, playing with the knife in my hands. I was growing more and more anxious as we put more distance between us, and the safety of the prison.

Rick and Daryl killed the engines as we rolled into the outskirts of Jacobsville. I could see the small strip mall, long before we coasted into the parking lot. The strip was surrounded by short stretches of open land, and a suburban neighborhood. Across the street a row of townhouses blocked much of the view to the rest of the city.

There were a few abandoned cars in the parking lot, and a few rotting bodies littered the sidewalk in front of the businesses. We popped the doors of the truck and stepped out.

It was silent. The calm before the storm, it seemed the only sound was the scrape of loose gravel displaced by the weight of our bodies on the pavement. Rick motioned for us to follow and I fell in behind him, Daryl picking up the rear.

We circled the building slowly, the heat causing beads of perspiration to collect on our faces. Three walkers were feeding feverishly on a small dog behind the Pawn shop; two men and a little girl. Daryl skewered one of the men above the ear, and Rick thrust his blade into the back of the other's skull.

I studied the little girl for a moment as she noticed my presence. Her blood soaked dress hung loosely from her emaciated frame. With a shiver I strode toward her and slammed my knife in between her eyes. The blood leaked over my fingers as I unsheathed my blade from her tiny fragile skull.

When I turned back to them, Rick and Daryl eyed me warily, before continuing our check of the perimeter.

All clear.

Grabbing empty bags out of the truck, we approached the windows of the pawn shop first. I pressed my arms to the glass trying to see into the dark room. It was no use, the tinted windows left the place in almost complete darkness.

Daryl tested the door; it was open.

With his crossbow at the ready he entered the musty shop. Rick followed, fingers flexing around the hilt of his knife. I stayed behind in the doorway covering their backs. I threw my bag down on the counter and unzipped it slowly, as Rick and Daryl started pulling things off of the shelves.

Hopping behind the counter, I opened the first case. I began shoving a few guns into my bag, and noticed an ivory handled knife. Looking at it more closely, I could see that the handle was carved with a gang of cowboys in a mountainous landscape. I dropped it into the bag for Carl, and made my way to the ammunitions cabinet. Jackpot. I cleared the shelves into my duffel, grabbed a couple shotguns off the wall and shoved them in as well.

On the opposite wall hung an elaborate Dolly Parton style costume. My fingertips brushed the embedded sequins delicately. One quick glance toward the back of the store, revealed Daryl and Rick returning to me.

"Ain't really my style." Daryl observed, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"I see you grabbed the ammo out of the cabinet." Rick gestured to open door behind him and I nodded.

We crept out of the shop and flung the bags into the truck bed. Half a dozen walkers had crawled out from behind the row of townhouses and were crossing the street toward us. Rick cursed under his breath.

"I've got go in for the formula, you two stay out here and cover me!" He grabbed another sack and sprinted for the pharmacy.

Daryl aimed his cross bow and clipped one of the walkers in the ear.

"Shit!" He struggled to reload the weapon. I grabbed a baseball bat out of the truck and strode over to the other walkers. My first swing smashed through the temple of a short woman, the second in the rear of a professionally dressed man's cranium.

Daryl takes out three with the cross bow, and I reach the last walker first. It's a young teenager in a basketball uniform. The Jacobsville Jaguars. I kick him in the stomach and he slumped to the ground. With one foot on his chest he attempted to lift himself up, snarling wildly. The butt of the bat smashed through his nose and I wrestled to free it from his mangled skull.

"Kate!" As I spun around, my heart skipped a beat. Rick had loaded three giant water bottles into the truck and was heading back into the pharmacy. The land behind the strip was crawling with walkers. Spilling out of every backyard in the suburban development; a herd. I sprinted for the parking lot.

"Rick! Herd!" Daryl shouted jumping onto the motorcycle. He turned to me as he started the engine with a thunderous roar. "I'll distract 'em!" Maneuvering the hog around, he sped off in the direction of the swarm.

As walkers started to spill around the side of the strip, I ran for the Pharmacy entrance.

"Rick! We need to go!" I swung at one walker, another. There was too many around me and I hastened for the Ford. Scrambling up onto the tailgate I pulled the gun from my back. As Rick came barreling out of the pharmacy, laden with bags, he took down two with his colt.

He was too slow and they were gaining on him, fast.

"Leave it!" I begged, nailing one walker between the eyes. The next managed to get a hand on the bag. I shot her in the neck - close enough. I exhaled as she stumbled to the ground. They were on him as he reached the truck and threw the bag in.

Grabbing an older man by the shirt he managed to push them back enough to shut himself into the cab.

I was forced further into the box of the truck as the bodies scrambled in.

"Drive!" I cried, kicking one woman over the side.

As the engine roared and the truck shifted into gear, I was flung to the floor. My head slammed into the hot metal, making my ears ring. I pushed myself up onto my knees unsteadily as Rick swerved to miss an abandoned car. He braked, and I fell back against the cab. My head was spinning as the passing air whistled in my ears.

"Kate!" Daryl yelled from behind as the vehicles barreled down the highway.

I heard the fluid snarl as my eyes focused on the body towering over me. He lunged and my shot rang. The blue sky spun and my ears screamed as the truck lunged violently.

As Rick burst out of the door and Daryl dropped the triumph, I rolled her off of me. Rick leapt into the bed and knelt down over me. I felt him lift and examine my arms hysterically, as Daryl yelled something I couldn't understand.

I groaned trying to pull my arms back into me, I was so disoriented I needed to stop moving.

"Kate," Rick hissed slapping my cheek lightly. I felt my stomach lurch and before I could right myself I unwillingly ejected the pathetic contents down the front of my shirt.

"Ah…shit." I heard Rick more than saw him toss the man's body out onto the road, and then felt his arms under me.

He must have passed me down to Daryl to step out of the box, because the next thing I could remember was Daryl placing me in the passenger side of the cab, splashing water in my face. Clutching my chin, he tried to focus me.

"Look at me. C'mon." I tried to lift my arms to swat him away but they were heavy and useless.

"We got to get her back." Rick panted from the driver's seat, throwing the truck in gear. The door slammed – sounding like it was inside of my skull, and the truck lurched forward. I could hear Rick talking to me, but his voice sounded far away and underwater. I just waved a limp hand in his direction, letting my head fall against the window. The cool glass was paradise against my burning skin, and I let my eyelids fall.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

I flitted in and out of consciousness for I don't know how long, before I was aware of the world around me again. I'd hear Rick's voice, and catch foggy glimpses Maggie's face, brows furrowed with concern. I succumbed over and over to darkness, welcoming the peace and quiet of my mental prison. When I finally opened my eyes, they burned and my head felt like a powder keg ready to blow.

When I finally came to, it was dark in the block. I became vaguely aware of my limbs, and the cell walls around me. Rays of pale moonlight stretched across my hallway outside the door.

My stomach lurched again and I groped around in the darkness for the toilet bowl. Hauling my body up to it, I convulsed as my brain punched the eject button again and again.

"Whoa, easy…" I felt hands on my face, gathering my hair and holding it back. I dry heaved for another minute or two then turned over, resting my back on the cold metal bowl. I exhaled slowly. I'd been relieved at how much better I was feeling - still dizzy and nauseous, with a stabbing headache, but completely aware of my surroundings.

Glenn smiled as I turned to focus on his face, letting out a sigh of relief. He handed me an open water bottle and I sucked back the liquid with a satisfied groan. My stomach echoed the sound.

"Let's get you back into that bunk, and I'll go find you something to eat."

I nodded gratefully and let him help me to sit back down on the bunk. As he strode out of the cell, he bumped into Rick, who rushed in and wrapped his arms around me. The embrace lingered a longer than I was comfortable with, so I patted him on the back to shorten the moment. As he pulled back I noticed the dark circles under his eyes, the puffy skin around them bright red. A feeling of dread crept under my skin,

"What happened?" I searched his features unsuccessfully, "Is everyone alright?" He looked confused for a moment, before sitting down next to me.

"They are now." His palm found my knee in the dark, giving it a light squeeze. "Not a bad shot, huh?" he grinned. It occurred to me then that his worry-ridden features had been inspired by my injury.

"Listen, Rick I'm,"

"-Don't." He cut me off before I could utter my apology. "You saved my life." I dropped my head, feeling my eyes fill with tears.

"It was the least I could do." I replied, looking up. "Your people saved mine."

Glenn returned with Maggie, who embraced me tightly before handing me a bowl of ramen noodles. As I shoved spoonfuls in my mouth, she giggled. My table manners had all but left me since I'd arrived, and it soon had me laughing out loud.

The joyous noise attracted Hershel, who gave me a quick once over, pronouncing that I was much improved, but should really get more rest.

"Where's Daryl?" I questioned the small gathering. They looked at each other nervously; silently decided that it was Rick who should answer.

"He's splitting wood out in the yard." Rick ventured. I glanced confusedly around the cell and out into the block.

"It's the middle of the night, isn't it?" I worried for a moment that my vision was failing me.

"Yeah, he's been out there all day." Silence hung heavy in the dark cell. I scoffed, pushing myself off of the bed. Hershel stopped me.

"Where are you going?" his hand rested on my arm.

"Someone has to bring that idiot in before he invites all of the walkers in Georgia to a human breakfast buffet." I pulled my arm away and continued out of the cell.

The air was cool, but the soft breeze felt amazing against my cheeks, as I struggled out into the yard. My balance wasn't completely restored, and my steps were a little unsteady. I could hear him before I could see him, the sound of the axe coming down on the dry wood and snapping the fibers that had once helped it to stand tall. His skin and hair were slick with sweat, and dark patches dotted his typical sleeveless attire.

He noticed my approach as he was struggling to dislodge his axe from a half split specimen.

"Glad yer awake." He let the axe rest.

"What are you doing out here?" I scolded, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Just needed to clear my head." He examined his hands a little too carefully, avoiding my obvious disapproval.

"Maybe you could clear it a little more quietly." I suggested, feeling bad for the man-child standing before me.

"Yes ma'am." He plopped down on a log, pulling a package of cigarettes from his shirt-pocket and lighting it slowly. The hot tobacco burned red as he inhaled deeply, eyes closed.

I fell in next to him and he offered the pack silently to me. Sliding one thin stick out of the wrapper and placing it between my lips, he held the match up to it.

It had been ages since I'd bothered to smoke, but the familiar taste calmed my unsteady nerves. The end of the world had proved a worthy enough distraction to forget an old habit. The night was silent, save for the distant growls of hungry bodies beyond the wire fences. I could feel the discomfort in my companion's condition as I blew smoke circles into the night air.

"You want to fool around?" I joked, smiling.

"You-what?" he sputtered, bewildered. I chuckled, letting my hand rest on his arm. For a minute he looked confused, and then morphed immediately into anger. Throwing his arm up, he severed the contact and lumbered to his feet.

"I don't need this shit." He turned to stomp off in the direction I'd come. He's embarrassed, I realized, and was thinking that I was mocking him.

"Daryl, wait." I pleaded, pulling myself to my feet. He hesitated for a second, not looking back. I placed myself directly in front of him. His eyes were cast down at his feet, his jaw clenched in agitation.

Before I could even think about what I was doing, I placed my hands on his rough cheeks, and stretched to press my lips to his. At first, it was like kissing a mannequin; his body tense and completely still, lips pressed tightly together.

Just as regret started to wash over me, he relaxed slightly, letting out a deep breath. He moved his lips slowly, seeming unsure of the act. I leaned into him a little, letting my hands fall to his chest. He was radiating heat, and I could feel his heart pounding.

He stepped back, severing all contact again, and I stumbled forward. When I opened my eyes he was already treading toward the dark building. This time, I didn't stop him. Rain started to fall lightly and a cold drop landed on my shoulder.

I stood in shock a moment, both at my own actions, and his bizarre rejection. I had felt his excitement in the palms of my hands, and he'd just stepped away without a word.

With my own heart thudding violently in my chest, I headed back inside out of the rain.

I


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

When I walked unsteadily back inside I was greeted by a sea of smiling faces. Maggie wrapped me up in a friendly hug, her wide smile painted on her features.

"I'm so happy that you're doing better. It was so long, we were starting to worry that you'd take a turn for the worst." She hugged me again. Her genuine concern made my heart swell with a sense of love and belonging.

"How long was I out?" I wondered out loud as she released me.

"Two days." She pouted.

By now, everyone who had recently turned in for the night was awake again, laughing and smiling. Carl rushed past Maggie and threw his arms around my waist.

"Hey handsome." I smiled, messing his hair. "Am I ever glad to see you."

"I'm glad you're feeling better." He encouraged.

It was always strange for me to think of Carl as a child. His eyes held an all knowing maturity, and he carried himself with authoritative air; just like his father.

"Actually," I remembered the knife, "I got you something."

He smiled. The childish joy restored to his features. I looked at Rick, who lifted his chin to signal his attention.

"I picked up a knife at the pawn shop for Carl." He laughed, pulling the knife from his own belt and handing it to his son.

"Wow," Carl examined the new blade intently. "She's a beaut." With another smile and embrace, he skipped off to find a home for the weapon. Rick made his way over to me.

"It's good that you're up and around." He rubbed the back of his neck, and yawned. "But, you should really get some more rest."

"Yeah…" my voice trailed off. I was suddenly aware of my tired muscles, but my mind was alert and I doubted that I would be able to sleep. After a moment of quiet contemplation, I decided that I would go lay down, if for no other reason than to allow the others to go back to sleep.

"I think I will go lay down." I offered him a smile.

"Alright," he nodded, returning the grin. "Good." He seemed distracted, and was rubbing his hands together nervously. As I turned to walk away he laid a hand on my shoulder.

"Thanks again." Pressing his lips to my forehead, he let out a deep breath and then walked back to his cell. I climbed the stairs to my cell in a daze of confusion. I struggled to remove my damp clothes and slid on a clean pair of underwear and a dry shirt to sleep in.

Once curled up the blanket, I tried to make sense of the previous hour. My head throbbed and I knew I should try to sleep, but my racing mind wouldn't allow it.

I thought about Daryl, and my first impression of him. I'd seen some self-sure redneck with no sleeves and a volatile attitude. Then I remembered his embarrassment and frustration at the slightest moment of intimacy. I wondered at my lack of restraint and fear in that moment. Then I considered the description of his brother that Maggie had volunteered. Spending all of his time with a dangerous personality didn't exactly welcome or encourage meaningful relationships.

My mind scolded me for such romantic notions in a time where there was no place for girlish fantasies.

I rolled over again and again in my bunk, trying to trick my body into comfort so that sleep would find me. The block was quiet, save for the light snoring of Oscar in the adjacent cell. I took long deep breaths, trying to clear my head. I focused on my lungs expanding and contracting, closing my eyes.

I couldn't force the kiss from my thoughts. For a moment, the awful reality of the world we'd come to inhabit, had been completely erased from my thoughts. My mind had been completely occupied by the act of kissing him…and my wanting to keep kissing him. Daryl; The same man who could barely hold my eye contact and seemed completely indifferent of, even inconvenienced by, my affections. The scene played continually in my head like a broken record.

My body pleaded for my mind to quiet, so that I could get some much needed rest.

Defeated, I opened my eyes. In the dark, I could see a figure pacing back and forth along the hall outside of my cell. I tried to focus my eyes and realized that it was Daryl. I watched him for a moment as he processed some inner conflict or anxiety. He stopped and looked into the cell.

I stilled, thinking that he'd caught me awake, when he returned to his aggravated march back and forth.

"Daryl." I whispered, nervous that he'd be embarrassed to be caught during his plight. He started, and hesitated just outside the door.

"Just come in." I grumbled, sitting up. Obediently, he crept in and sunk down in the chair opposite me.

"I'm sorry for kissing you." I mumbled, frustrated that I felt forced to apologize in such a tired condition. His head snapped up,

"I ain't!" He raised his voice. I motioned for him to keep it down and he nodded his understanding, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

"I don't understand." I shrugged. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, seemingly trying to find the words.

"It's my job to keep these people, including you, safe. But, I ain't no one's Prince Charming." I was torn between smacking him and comforting him.

"This isn't like any fairytale I've ever heard." I mused, gesturing vaguely to the world around me. He smirked, nodding in agreement.

The silence stretched out between us comfortably. I wanted to reach out and touch him, to kiss him again. I just exhaled and massaged my healing ribs. His features were tense with indecision. After even more painful silence, he stood abruptly and stepped toward the door. I relaxed and moved to lie back down.

Suddenly, he'd spun around, ducked down into the bunk, and his lips found mine. There was no hesitation in his movements this time, as he eased himself down to sit next to me. My hands found their way to his neck as I pulled him in closer. His body was warm next to mine, and I wanted to be closer to him.

He put his arms around me to pull me onto his lap and I winced as he put pressure onto my sore ribs. He pulled away, and put his hands up to remove mine from his neck.

To my surprise, he didn't move to leave, instead keeping eye contact and lifting my shirt delicately. I held it up for him slightly as he ran his rough fingertips along my ribs. The bruises were yellow now, finally healing. I lowered my gaze, my boldness a moment earlier taken hostage by my shame. He lifted his other hand to trace the fresh scar on my opposite side, brows knit with anger. I forced my shirt down over his hands and avoided his gaze.

He sat back against the concrete wall, and with an arm around my shoulder, pulled me in to rest on his chest. I curled into him, pulling my knees up to my chest. Next to him I felt miniscule. He massaged my neck slowly, placing his free hand on my bare knee, rubbing the pale skin lightly with his thumb.

Between the warmth of his chest and the comfort his closeness afforded me, I unknowingly drifted off to sleep.

I woke to the sound of gunshots. Not in the block, but not far off. I rushed out of my cell, stumbling as I tried to throw on a pair of pants. Daryl was no where in sight.

Instead, Carol, Glenn, Maggie, and Beth stared up at me chewing their breakfasts as I stood half clad and half asleep. Glenn coughed and looked away. Beth giggled.

"What's going on?" I questioned, taking the appropriate time to finish my dressing.

"Rick and the boys are clearing the way to the library." Carol explained, smiling sympathetically. "Come have something to eat."

I nodded, slightly embarrassed as I staggered down the stairs and sat down next to Beth. From where I sat I could see Herschel sitting in Rick's cell, nursing Judith with a small bottle. I couldn't help but smile at the simple task.

Carol handed me a cup of oatmeal and we sat in silence for a few minutes as everyone savored the bland meal.

"How'd you sleep?" Beth smiled, chewing slowly.

"Good." I admitted. Truthfully, it had been the best sleep I'd gotten since I'd arrived. I wondered how long Daryl had stayed after I fell asleep, remembering that I'd woken up alone.

My thoughts were interrupted when Hershel beckoned me to help him for a moment. I placed my empty cup on the floor and walked over to join him in Rick's cell.

"Can you hold her for a bit while I grab some more formula from the kitchen?" He held the baby out to me.

"Are you sure you don't want me to get that for you?" I offered, afraid I might insult the competent one legged man.

"It's good for me to get some exercise." He smiled.

I reached out to take Judith from him, and she squirmed discontentedly. Her tiny hands reached out to me. I held her to my chest, shushing her, but she began to cry. I groaned inwardly as Hershel abandoned me with her. I was never very good with babies. To be honest, their fragility scared me. How was I to be trusted with what may be the only being to ever be born into this dead world?

She squealed unhappily and I propped her up against my shoulder, patting her tiny back. I started to hum a simple melody and she quieted. I felt my shoulder dampen as she drooled contentedly. A sigh of relief escaped my lips and I continued humming the simple song. My heart swelled as she nestled into my neck happily and I danced slowly around the cell for a few moments, listening to her tiny breaths.

More gunshots echoed through the prison as Hershel returned with a bag on one arm and a crutch under the other.

It was Carol who relieved me of Judith, holding out her hands longingly for the small body. I handed her over happily. Walking back over to the others, I sat down and turned to Maggie.

"Why are they clearing their way to the library?" The thought occurred to me that it wasn't exactly a vital excursion.

"The library is half way between here and the Infirmary; they're hoping to find more medical supplies without having to go out again." She explained, "Rick said the herd you came up against was one of the worst he's seen."

"We were lucky." I glanced up just as the men came treading through the block gate. I smiled at Daryl as he walked by and he turned away, climbing the stairs to his cell. Maggie eyed me warily as I visibly slouched, a little disappointed by his cold shoulder.

It dawned on me as I pitied myself, that I hadn't showered since I had gone out for supplies and I felt filthy. With a nod to the others, I made my way to my cell, gathered my things, and headed off to the showers.


End file.
